


another bonding moment?

by the_forgotten_daydreamer



Series: Voltron: Legendary Defender [18]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood and Injury, Caring team Voltron, Gen, Keith angst, Keith has a dislocated shoulder, Lance Angst, Lance has a concussion, Langst, Mild Language, Posting this at 3am on a fine wednesday morning, Whump, concussion, dislocation, platonic klance, rivals to friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:48:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26366713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_forgotten_daydreamer/pseuds/the_forgotten_daydreamer
Summary: Lance and Keith are both out of commission, and the latter tries to comfort his badly-injured, delirious teammate.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron)
Series: Voltron: Legendary Defender [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680511
Comments: 22
Kudos: 151





	another bonding moment?

**Author's Note:**

> I should've posted this months ago but was too hesitant to do so. Please, take this as... something I wrote in my spare time a while ago. This is also a former apology for putting the previous work of the series on hiatus.

Bust in the Galra base. 

Deactivate the bots.

Retrieve the supplies that the enemies were withholding.

Retreat.

That's what they had been doing daily in the past couple of movements, and fighting anyone had been a rather rare occurrence, lately. Allura, of course, vehemently insisted that everyone kept fit and vigilant despite the lack of action, so training sessions were still devastating and all of the paladins— Shiro too, surprisingly enough— always left the training deck battered and exhausted to the brim. 

This mission wasn't any different.

It went smoothly, nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing that _the mighty Voltron_ couldn't handle— Hunk had remarked with overwhelming pride when announcing their arrival at the enemy base.

However, since the team was used to not finding anyone _alive_ that interfered, they had forgotten that surprise attacks were still possible, and they'd fallen right into the trap. It was nothing they hadn't faced before, and surely the training sequences they did part in were far more tiring, but these guards seemed adamant to leave a mark, to fight to the death— and the team really avoided permanently injuring anyone if possible.

At the end of the fight against that dozen of soldiers, everybody was fine. 

Everybody minus Lance, and Keith too to a certain degree.

The pilot of the Red Lion had been surprised from behind, and he could still feel the sharp claws sinking into the shoulder pads as a particularly sturdy soldier grabbed it and yanked his whole body up, and then slammed the boy into a nearby wall, violently. Keith hit his shoulder hard, sliding down the wall as he writhed in pain, teeth gritted in a faint attempt to keep himself from wailing. Dislocated shoulder, that had been Coran's diagnosis when the boy had grunted for help in the commlink, the others too busy fighting to help. So, the Red Paladin had relaxed. It was just a dislocated shoulder. Not that it was any less agonizing— he'd pointed out when Pidge jokingly picked on him for making a fuss— and couldn't carry on a fight anymore, let alone lifting heavy boxes.

Lance, with his inexplicably bad luck, had it worse. Close-range fights were his Achilles' heel, it was a known fact, but he still managed to make his way out of that mess, shooting at the enemies' feet when he could get a clear visual and punching someone here and there. He'd even tripped Shiro, accidentally, to make one soldier lose their balance— they had dodged easily, but Lance mentally praised himself for the effort.

Still, when Lance's chocolate hair got grabbed— _where the fuck is my helmet!?_ — and when his head had been brutally, repeatedly slammed against the floor, he'd seen the stars, closer than ever for how ironic that sounds. 

The Galra soldier had him pinned down, the nasty wounds on his head oozing crimson blood steadily. If he had to be honest, Lance didn't remember much about the rest.

Someone had screamed his name or screamed in general— _Díos… Too loud..._ — and then the soldier above him disappeared. He'd walked, or got dragged— he didn't know— to the Lion by strong, muscular arms, a voice fussing over him incessantly, but Lance's memory was fuzzy, clouded, distant.

As soon as they sat Lance down on Black's floor, back upright against the wall, near the open hatch and slope that the others were using to load the goods, Lance felt himself slip away.

"...ce? Hey." 

Somebody— _Shiro..?_ — snapped fingers before his eyes, and Lance blinked slowly. 

"Kiddo...with me? ...have to stay focu...say someth..."

Lance's eyes fluttered close. A soft tapping to his cheek, _insistent and annoying and—_

"Is he okay!? Lance! Oh God, oh God!" came Hunk's anxious voice as he got on the Lion, a heavy box in his hands. The leader shook his head, a sympathetic look on his face, and the Yellow Paladin crouched next to him, in front of Lance.

"He'll live," Shiro said, "but he's worse off than what I thought, and I'm _very_ worried about his lack of focus." the man commented, passing his flesh, gloved hand through Lance's chocolate bangs, smoothing them back from his clouded eyes, "We need to monitor him constantly until we get him to the Castle, and we have to hurry. Look at this, he's so out of it… It can't be good."

Hunk only hummed, grim.

"I'll go grab the medkit and patch him up. Make sure he doesn't shut down completely." Shiro exhaled, worry evident in his features as the little crease between his eyebrows deepened, "Hey, you'll be fine. It'll only take me a dobosh. I believe in you, Hunk."

The latter smiled, though his eyes told an entirely different story. "Thanks, Shiro. I'd take care of the wound and all, but… Y'know." he nodded to the blood faintly, and shuddered. There was too much blood for Hunk's liking, his stomach was on the verge of lurching. The older paladin chuckled, sympathetic, patting the other's broad shoulders.

"I can stay with Lance, if you want..." came another voice. Keith's.

The two paladins whirled around, still crouching, and they faced Keith, who was holding his injured arm. He was in evident pain, the sweat dripping down his forehead like pouring rain, his skin clammy and paler than normal. Shiro grimaced, and Hunk felt faint. "K-Keith!" the Samoan stuttered, looking greener than ever.

"I can do this. I mean, since I can't lift any boxes with this stupid shoulder, and I don't mind a little blood. This is the best I can do to help, Hunk." Keith explained calmly.

Shiro hummed, since his brother was making a lot of sense logically speaking.

"Keith's right. We need your strong arms, and I don't want you to be uncomfortable." the leader of Voltron said, eyeing the bigger guy in a caring, brotherly way, "If Keith's up to it—"

"I _am_."

"—then maybe you should let him do this one, okay?"

Hunk swallowed. _Gosh_ , he felt useless. His stomach churned as he eyed Keith’s limp arm, and then Lance’s bloody face, ashen.

"Come on, we can't have our engineer be out of commission too." Keith attempted a small smile, shying away with his eyes. And Hunk nodded, trying to ground himself.

"Y-yeah, yeah, okay. You guys are right. I'll, huh, I'll leave this to you. Please, take care of him," he bowed his head slightly, “and you take care too, Keith.”

Keith and Shiro offered a small smile, and with that, Hunk left off to work. Shiro turned to face his brother, raising a thick eyebrow, an amused smirk on his face.

"...W-what?"

" _You,_ volunteering to take care of a human being? Of _Lance_? That’s new."

"What is that supposed to mean? Lance's my teammate and he's _hurt,"_ Keith objected, voice cracking and making him blush slightly, "don't make me regret stepping aside, you know I'd find a way to carry boxes with one arm.”

The man huffed out a small laugh, and ruffled his brother’s hair, "Alright, alright. Then, have a sit, I'll be back soon with what I need to—"

"St'p talkin', y're lou'."

"Lance!!"

"Wha'd I jus' say..?" he slurred, frowing nonetheless.

Shiro chuckled lightly, despite the situation. "It's good to see you awake, buddy. I'll be back soon, but Keith’s here if you need anything."

The Red Paladin looked around nervously, after sitting next to Lance, less than an arm of length away. He swallowed, gaze low. Shiro was right, Keith wasn't the right one to take care of anybody, especially of—

"Wha'd you do?"

"Eh?"

"Wh're here w' me..?" Lance breathed out, jaw trembling, "You gotta... The... The thing w' boxes..." he vaguely gestured towards some of the boxes that had already been loaded.

Keith's head sagged, defeated. "I dislocated my shoulder and Shiro made me sit this one out." Keith explained, speaking slowly and not too loudly, "So I thought I'd keep you company. This will take a while, since there's plenty of stuff to bring onboard, and only three pairs of arms, so… Yeah."

Lance blinked, sheepish. He'd understood, maybe, half of what Keith had just said. His thoughts twirled and swirled, vision blurry, ears ringing so loudly he felt his brain move to the rhythm of the noise. And his head hurt a lot, like a hammer trying to crack the skull open from the inside, Lance's head like a water balloon filled with too much water, like it would pop any minute now, he felt his heartbeat pulsing in his ears as blood rushed rapidly, making him lose any sense of balance left. Even the dull purple light in the Lion hurt, pupils horribly dilated and extremely sensitive to any stimulus. 

Shakily, Lance brought a hand up to his face, fingers brushing against his forehead, head matted with smelly sweat and sticky blood. The fingers came away dripping bright red, and the Blue Paladin felt dizzier. Why did everything hurt so much? He didn't remember, he—

"Hey, I'm back. Keith, I need to take care of Lance first, alright?" Shiro said, crouching down and placing a delicate hand on the Cuban's padded knee, squeezing it to get his attention.

Keith only nodded, understanding that Lance must have been feeling much more miserable. After all, his shoulder throbbed and his whole arm felt tingling and numb, but he wasn't in excruciating pain. It was bearable. Lance's pain, however...

"Lance, buddy," Shiro called, and the teen made eye contact, blinking through the daze, "I need to clean the wounds and wrap them up, okay? You with us now?" He spoke clearly, knowing that Lance was most likely having trouble in processing everything.

The latter's eyes flickered, and Shiro took it as a yes. Not that he had any other choice.

So, he gingerly started feeling the head for bumps and cuts, his touch featherly on the injuries. Lance whimpered silently, not even shedding a tear, and Keith felt his throat closing up, heart twisting. He felt guilty. Why did he let four— _four!—_ soldiers take on Lance at once and literally slam his head open? Why didn't he help sooner? He'd seen them approaching his teammate, he could have—

"Do you remember who you and we are?"

A tiny nod, that drained all his forces, was all that Lance could manage.

"That's great. But I'll need to hear your voice." Shiro murmured, adding an apology while looking for wounds to take care of. He was sincerely mortified that Lance was _this_ hurt again, just like when Sendak had taken over the Castle some phoebs prior.

Lance grunted. He didn't like this. He just wanted to take a nap, he wanted his mamá to make pastelitos for him and to watch silly TV shows with her, just like old times—

"Lance? Don't go spacing out on me, kiddo." Shiro insisted, a pang of guilt ripping through his chest. The Blue Paladin sighed, evidently defeated. "Wha's the question..?"

Keith winced, but his brother seemed to have it under control as he repeated the question slowly, making sure that Lance got everything without straining his aching head further.

"M'Lance. Team 'oltron..." he exhaled, voice shaky, each word seemingly carrying the weight of a planet.

Shiro breathed out in relief. "Yes, that's right. What do you remember about today?"

"Th' base… The— the boxes, we hafta take 'em to… Huh… 'lura's Castle."

Shiro and Keith sighed in relief once again. Though indubitably out of it, Lance was most likely going to recover without complications. Keith eyed his brother as he picked up some antiseptic and soaked a cotton ball in it. He winced loudly at the thought of that burning substance against an open wound.

Lance, however, didn't bat an eye as Shiro skillfully dabbed the cotton ball on the wounds. Keith didn't know if the lack of reaction was good or bad, he didn't want to find out. Shiro seemed to notice, and looked at the Red Paladin, a soothing sparkle in his gentle eyes.

"Hey, _hey._ Lance will be fine. Relax, man." he muttered, turning his attention back to Lance who'd started rambling about the most recent events. He tripped over the words, fumbled for easy terms, tongue twisting, brain shutting down rapidly as he wandered off, his muttering now incoherent and nonsensical.

"Is he _really_ going to be fine? Look at that, he looks straight-up stoned."

"He does. But he'll be okay, I think. I mean, he didn't lose too much blood, and he's awake... sort of, anyway." Shiro reasoned, eyeing Lance as he stared at an unidentified point somewhere beyond his friend's backs. 

"We should be back at the Castle in a couple of vargas, and a pod will be ready for him as soon as we land. We just need to make sure he doesn't get worse before that." the Black Paladin concluded.

Then, he grabbed the immaculate, sterile gauze, and wrapped one, two, three thick layers around Lance's head, blood slowly seeping through the bandages and the extra cotton pads he'd put on the nasty ones. The Cuban boy was still mumbling intelligibly, and neither of the two present paladins knew what language he was using anymore. Some words were certainly in Spanish, others were English ones, and then... A mix of the two? 

"We can’t let him pass out, it's gonna be a problem later if he does." Shiro warned, gently shifting his gaze, and Keith only nodded, looking back at Lance.

The guy looked miserable, in all honesty, and even Keith felt a pang of worry churn his guts.

The Blue Paladin's complexion was uncharacteristically ashen, a thin layer of sweat making the skin glow under the dim light of the Lion's cockpit. His eyes were sunken, dark circles around them along with bruises and smeared blood that still trickled down from his bandaged temple. 

Shiro tried to pry his mind away from his worries, and gently squeezed Keith's knee.

"Let's take care of that shoulder, mh?"

Keith nodded, fearful, and attempted at swallowing the thick knot at the back of his throat, anxiety bubbling up inside his chest. He was _so_ not ready for this.

"I have never reset a shoulder before, but I can try. Or, I can just immobilize it and wait for Coran to do it. Pidge can do it too, I know they can." Shiro explained, eyeing Keith.

"...Pidge? Th-they know how to reset a shoulder..?"

"Yes, they know how, oh, and they can also _hear_ you!" Pidge said, the box in their hands heavily dropped onto the floor as they gulped for breath.

"Oh, hey Pidge," Shiro smiled, "would you do the honors?".

The Green Paladin shrugged, "If Keith lets me, why not."

And Keith paled. None of the options sounded good, none of the options sounded painless, he couldn't—

"It would take less than a dobosh to set it and wrap it," Pidge explained, putting themselves in Keith's line of vision as they noticed the boy spiraling, "and I did this many times, since Matt used to be a clumsy kid. I promise I wouldn't make it hurt too much."

The Red Paladin swallowed, throat tight again. Shiro had no practical experience in fixing bones, only theoretical. And Coran... That man was an excellent paramedic, but Keith was scared to death of him whenever he was near any medical tool. It was an irrational fear, yes, but he couldn't do much about it.

"Okay..." Keith exhaled, shakily, "p-please, do it."

Pidge nodded, and turned to face Shiro, “May I suggest bringing a bucket over here? Sometimes people puke after—”

“He c’n use mine…” Lance breathed out, eyes still rolling as he shakily grabbed the unused bucket that had been placed near him— just in case— and handed it over. Shiro offered a kind smile, accepting the bucket.

“Thanks, buddy”

Lance only nodded, exhaling as he stared somewhere behind the others, gaze shifting. The three slightly more awake paladins cringed, heart squeezing at the sight. The poor kid must have been exhausted, Shiro reasoned.

Pidge patted Keith’s leg, an encouraging grin on their face, and the latter returned it, though shakier and less convinced.

“I’m going to count to three,” Pidge explained while positioning themselves, “you’re most likely going to feel out of breath for a moment, but try to breathe deep through your nose, alright? I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“Wh-what if I feel sick?”

“You’re sitting down already, it’s not like you’re going to injure yourself further.” Shiro reassured, “Besides, Pidge will be delicate”

“Pr-promise..?”

The Green Paladin nodded, “Yeah, I promise. You ready, Keith?”

He wasn’t ready. Not in the slightest… He nodded anyway—

“Good, here we go…”

Keith squeezed his eyes.

“One,”

He inhaled shakily. _No. No. Stop this._

“Two—” 

_CRACK._

And Keith tipped, Shiro gently easing him down on the floor, the Red Paladin’s head close to Lance’s butt as the concussed boy eyed him, worriedly. By the time he hit the floor, Keith was already coming to, Pidge skillfully working to secure that arm.

“Keith? Oi. You good?” they asked, patting his back as Shiro lifted him to sit upright again.

“T'fuck happen’d to three..?” he gasped and seethed, trying to catch his breath as his vision swam and twirled.

“Sorry, it’s better if you don’t expect it. And look, we’re done here!” Pidge smiled, “Does the shoulder feel any better? Any nausea?”

“M’ fine, Pidge… You’re very skilled.” 

“Duh, I told you!" Pidge then turned to Lance, offering a tender smile, "Hey, how are you holding up, man?" they said, cupping Lance's face with one hand to get his attention, staring at those uncharacteristically sheepish eyes. It _hurt_ to see him like that.

"Feel shitty…" Lance breathed out in response, before returning his gaze to the ceiling.

The Green Paladin shrugged, "Eh. Fair answer, I'll take it."

In the meantime, Shiro had already grabbed a bottle of painkillers, and handed it to Keith. “Take one now, and another one when needed, but _warn_ us before you do.” he ordered, “And rest, okay?” He ruffled Keith’s hair as he and Pidge got up, stretching their backs.

“We gotta go back to load those goods. Will you be alright?”

“Yeah,” Keith nodded and swallowed the pill dry, “I feel better already, and this will kick in soon. Go, don’t worry.”

And without further ado, the Black and the Green paladin were off again, leaving the Blue and the Red one alone in the hatch, sitting on the cold floor. Lance was not looking too good. His skin was greener than it had ever been, sweat soaking his armor, a dark flush on his cheeks as he huffed and puffed, visibly struggling to keep the nausea at bay. And Lance looked tired, completely drained. His body was being rocked by a not so fine tremble, struggling to sit upright, to stay away, fighting for consciousness. He was losing that fight, evidently.

Slowly, Keith saw him sliding down the wall, tipping dangerously as the bloody wounds soaking through the bandages on the back of his head smeared crimson all over the wall. 

"Ooh no no no! Lance." Keith called, grabbing Lance’s arm to pull him up again, “No sleeping yet. Come on, we've been over this. Lance? Lance. You _can't_ sleep now. You hear me?”

Lance let his weight drop anyway, and Keith actually had to put some strength to make that _idiot_ sit up. The Cuban grunted at the motion, annoyed and nauseated.

“Lemme take a nap, y'bastard...”

“I can’t let you. You’re concussed, so you _can’t_ sleep yet. Got it? No naps, no nothing. Eyes open, McClain." he growled. And Keith stared in disbelief as Lance, an eighteen year-old man, _pouted._ His dark eyebrows furrowed as confusion, shock and amusement washed over him.

"Lance, listen to me. You _can't_ sleep." Keith insisted, tone softer yet equally firm, "Sleep will _harm_ you, okay? It's bad for you in this situation, that's why we don't want you to do that just yet."

The Blue Paladin's frown darkened and deepened, lips pursed in a disgruntled pout. Keith didn't believe his eyes.

“Don't be like that, I'm doing this for your own good. Seriously, I—"

“No… Y'hate me. M’tired n’ y’ won’t lemme sleep." Lance wailed, “M’head hurts n’ I'm gonna throw up if y’dun lemme take a nap _now._ But y'won't b-because y're _mean_ and you hate me." Lance bickered, sounding sincerely panicked. The desperation and exhaustion in his tone made Keith’s guts twist, and those accusations only aggravated the already-dire situation. There was no way one could fake _that,_ so any hope for Lance just being extra left Keith. And that was positively terryfing.

The Japanese teen brought a hand up, hesitantly hovering over Lance’s shoulder, before letting it fall back. They were in good terms, all things considered, and that _stupid_ rivarly surely didn’t mean that Keith and Lance despised each other. But still, Keith couldn’t bring himself to explore new horizons in their friendship, it didn’t feel entirely optimal yet; this was the chance to make it right.

"What can I do to help?"

"Eh?"

"What can I do to make you feel more comfortable and in less pain?" Keith repeated, surprisingly calm. As soon as Lance opened his mouth, Keith spoke again, suppressing a strained chuckle, "No, I _can't_ let you sleep. I'd love nothing more than seeing you sleep, now, but I can't."

Lance hummed, "But… why..? Jus' wanna...rest fo' a sec, man…" he explained for the thousandth time, "A lil nap fo' Lancey-Lance… 'nd then I can… _pewpewpew_ th' ships… A lil nap s'all I want." 

"Once we get to the Castle." Keith hissed, distraught at Lance's rapid downfall. He _really_ didn't like head injuries. "Do you want to lean on me?"

"No. Yes. I dun… dunno."

"T-try it, then?" Keith hesitated. He wasn't good at this, but he didn't care, because his teammate— his _friend_ needed him, and he wasn't going to let him down. Not Lance, not the one who would always help them all out, who would always look out for them instinctively, rivalry or no rivalry.

Lance breathed out, so softly that Keith barely heard it, "...'kay." His head leaned on Keith's uninjured shoulder, body visibly relaxing. It was clear that he was struggling to keep his eyes open, Keith could see it from his position beside him. _Poor guy._

"Are you okay, Lance? Do you feel like you're gonna be sick? Does your head hurt?"

"Mhm."

"Is that… a yes or a no?"

"Dunno."

"That doesn't help at all, but since you're talking, it's fine. I hope. Better than nothing, I guess..?" Keith noted, uncertainty veiling his voice, "Hey, is there anything that you want _besides_ sleeping?"

Lance pondered for a brief instant, but it felt like someone was trying to tear his skull apart from the inside, so the boy ended up huffing out a choked whimper and a crooked shrug. Keith bit his lower lip.

"We can just sit here and wait." he continued, "It won't be long. From the looks of it, there are only fifty— maybe sixty boxes left."

"Yeah." Lance hummed, drifting off inexorably. He felt sleepy. Too sleepy. He couldn't help it.

"Shouldn't take more than half a varga, hopefully."

"'Kay." Keith would have gotten angry if he'd fallen asleep. So he didn't.

"I don't hate you, Lance."

"Nice..." He wasn't awake either.

"So, we can enjoy this bonding moment peacefully."

"Mhm."

"And you _will_ remember it, won't you?"

"Sho'."

"Promise?"

"Wh'ver y'say…"

Keith smiled to himself, a grin hidden under the hand he brought up. He wasn't entirely sure of the reason behind his need for Lance to remember their bonding moments, but honestly? He couldn't care less about _why._ He was satisfied. He'd finally won.

-

Too bad that Lance stumbled out of the pod a whole quintant later, and didn't remember anything. Again. But he was okay, and if Keith had to be honest, that was all that really mattered.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> ❗Don't read and run❗Leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed this, please. Feel free to check out my other works if you want, and have a nice day.


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